The Apprentice
by and © N Fourbois
Chapter 7
Eric walked from the lift to his office.
"Good morning, Sharon," he said to his secretary (shared).
"Good morning, Mr Blanchflower," she replied. "You're looking very smart today."
"Thank you, Sharon. So are you."
"Have you been standing too close to the razor again?"
"Yes, something like that." Then he noticed that she too was wearing a polo neck sweater - white - under her dark costume jacket. 'Been standing too close to the razor?' went through his mind, but he knew better than to say anything, that is if he wanted any typing, research or filing done that day. He went into his office and booted up his computer, then went back out to find out what his schedule for the day was.
"A busy day for you, Mr Blanchflower, I'm afraid. Mr Smithson at 9.30. He's rather concerned about a meeting he's got with HMRC on Friday. The Misses Goole at 11 o'clock. They want to expand their business."
"What is it again? Disembowelling men and shrinking their heads for export?"
"No, Mr Blanchflower, they run a small chain of florists in the county, specialising in wedding flowers."
"Sorry, Sharon, I must have them confused with some other clients." Sharon smiled, more in pity than in appreciation, and continued.
"Then at 2.30 Mr Rush, a new client, who has got into difficulty over his income tax returns."
"Any clues there?"
"Yes. He hasn't made any for five years."
"Oh, well, we're here to help."
"Here are their files for you to read through."
"Thank you. You might have to rescue me with the Misses Goole. I always get the impression that they want to eat me, and I don't mean sexually either. That would probably be a worse option."
Eric took the files into his office, closed the door behind himself and sat down at his desk. Three clients, four he supposed as the Gooles would appear in duplicate, with reading up beforehand and writing up afterwards would constitute a heavy day. He'd better work through his lunch hour. He wanted to give Kieran his undivided attention at home and after the previous day he owed the firm some time anyway.
At five to five he tidied the paper clips on his desk, shut down his computer and joined the stream of workers heading for the car park. He felt exhausted. He'd certainly earnt his salary today. Luckily the traffic was light and the traffic lights were with him on the way home. He parked up and made his way up to his flat. He turned his key in the lock, opened the door and cried out
"Hi, Kieran."
"Hi! Is that you, Eric?"
"It had better be, or are you expecting some clandestine lover?"
"Chance would be a fine thing. Hey, I couldn't find the key to undo this chastity thing."
"Here it is," said Eric producing it from his trouser pocket.
"You bastard. You made me wear it the whole day."
"Oh, how charming. It's part of your apprenticeship. It's not good for you to be wanking yourself silly all day. Save it for when you've got a boy. Anyway, you were sleeping so sweetly when I left for work I didn't want to rouse you."
"You can do that all right any time."
"I meant wake you up. I can see I'm going to have to choose my words more carefully."
"Good day at work?"
"Exhausting, but fruitful. One new account. You wouldn't like to make us pot of tea, would you? In any well organised firm that's the apprentice's first job - making the tea and coffee."
Eric followed Kieran into the kitchen. He filled the kettle, then put a teabag into each of two mugs.
"Oh, Kieran!" exclaimed Eric with a hurt expression on his face. "I said a pot of tea, not navvies' mugs. We are after all gayboys with standards to maintain, not 'oi polloi. I'll make the tea and you can watch. Thanks for washing up the breakfast things, by the way. I was in a bit of a hurry this morning."
"What? Before I woke up?"
"And another by-the-way. Where did I get this from?" Eric pulled down the collar of his polo neck jumper and revealed the lovebite. Kieran blushed. "Either vampires managed to get past the garlic and into the flat or you're a bit of an animal when you get roused." Kieran bowed his head, put his thumb into his mouth and looking up said
"Sorry, Uncle Eric. You just have that effect on me."
Eric carried on getting the teapot and proper teacups and saucers out.
"You can use teabags if you want to, but I prefer real tea leaves. This bit's important. You warm the pot first. Swill boiling water round in it, pour it down the sink, more boiling water, put the tea cosy over the pot and let it stand for moment. Pour the water away, then using this proper measuring spoon which is kept in the caddy, a spoonful for each person, that is two, plus one for the pot, then reboil the water and pour it into the pot as near to boiling point as possible. Let it brew for a few minutes and then it is ready to pour. Tea or milk first?"
"It's important to get it the right way round, isn't it?"
"A lot tosh is spoken about that. Milk first stops the cups from getting stained; milk second makes it easier to get the right colour. It's up to you. Sugar?"
"No, thanks. I'm sweet enough already."
"Don't get me going on that," said Eric. "More boiling water into the pot in case we want a second cup. We put everything onto a tray, not forgetting the tea strainer, and carry it into the living room for a bit of comfort."
They sat down in armchairs. Eric poured the tea and they made themselves comfortable.
"Aren't you going to unlock this cage for me?"
"When we've had tea," answered Eric. "You've worn it this long. A few more minutes won't hurt. So what have you been up to today?"
"I didn't wake up until about ten. Got showered and dressed. Decided not to wear any undies with the cage on. When I went out, I'm sure people were staring at me because I had to wear the cage hanging down one leg of my jeans and I couldn't hide it."
"Did you deliver those letters and pick up your work?"
"Yeah. That was odd. They made me feel most unwelcome, a pariah they wanted to get off the premises as soon as possible. That Mrs Tidville was there to make sure I was dealt with very quickly and very impersonally, except..."
"Except what?"
"She couldn't keep her eyes off my crotch. A respectable married woman as well."
"They're often the worst, particularly if their husbands are rather small in the trouser department. Penis envy is not confined to queers."
"I only saw one pupil, a pretty little boy in Year 9, obviously going off to a music lesson. He said hi. I said hi back, but explained I couldn't talk to him because I was excluded and we'd both be in trouble if we were caught speaking to one another. He looked a bit disappointed, I thought."
"One of your admirers."
"I also had a chance to have a good read of that GY mag. Have you got any more?"
"No, I only buy it occasionally and then put them out for the salvage. I gather you like it?"
"Yeah, and how."
"I'll give you a year's subscription for your next birthday."
"Would you?"
"If you'd like that."
"Why were some of the pages stuck together?" Kieran asked provocatively and with a false air of innocence. Eric was not going to allow himself to be embarrassed.
"Kieran, you're a man of the world and an apprentice gayboy, why do you think?"
"Because someone's been wanking while looking at the pictures?"
"There you go then. You needn't have asked the question."
"I think I would have done too, if I hadn't been caged up. Oh, and one other thing. I gave Orlando a call on that number and I'm going to meet him when he finishes at Domino's on Friday. We'll hang out in town, get something to eat - not pizza. He gets sick of the stuff. Then he's coming back to my place, stopping the night, then if we get on okay, we'll either go to the cinema on Saturday or get a DVD and watch it at home and he'll stop the night again."
"You'll get on all right. I just know it."
"Is that what they call gaydar, Eric?"
"No, gaydar is something else. We'll talk about it later. The important thing to discuss now is what you're going to cook us for supper tonight. You came to the supermarket and so you know what's in the fridge and the larder."
"I know it's supposed to be unhealthy, and that's why Mum won't cook it for us, but how about a fry up? Eggs, bacon, sausages, baked beans and chips?"
"What a good idea! Naughty, but nice. And you don't have to fry the eggs, bacon and sausages. There are healthier ways of doing it, like grilling the bacon and sausages. The chips we'll have to fry or they aren't chips."
"But we didn't buy any frozen ones or oven bake chips at the supermarket."
"Then we're going to have to learn how to make them from real potatoes. Okay, let's get this cage unlocked. I take it you're going to sleep in your own bed tonight." Kieran hesitated. "Or we may as well leave it on." Defeated Kieran quietly said
"I'll sleep in my own bed. I shall need all my strength for the weekend."
Kieran and Eric were sitting at the meal table, thoroughly enjoying their fry up.
"You won't tell Mum about this, will you, Eric?"
"I've got far more interesting things to tell your mother than that," he replied enigmatically. "So what have you learnt tonight? To heat baked beans - they can teach monkeys to do that; to open a can with a can-opener rather than a pull ring."
"Hey that's a bit unfair. I could do that before."
"Yes, but this was not with an electrical device. To cook bacon and sausages without the need of a frying-pan. You saw how much grease trickled out, didn't you? That's what your mother fears will block up your arteries later in life. We still have to do poached or scrambled egg, but as the eggs were fried in sunflower oil, that won't harm you."
"Why wouldn't you let me use olive oil? That's supposed to healthy."
"It's got a much lower boiling point than sunflower oil and so disappears into the ether before it can get hot enough to cook anything. Save it for salads and other cold dishes. What else?"
"I've got to be more consistent in cutting the chips so that they fry nicely together. I didn't even know you could make them from potatoes."
"Where did you think they came from?"
"Wheugh! I don't know. On the rare occasions when Mum does them, they come out of a packet in the freezer." Eric rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling.
"And what's this 'wheugh'? I thought you were sixteen going on seventeen, not regressing to a Neanderthal-like adolescent." Kieran immediately burst into the song from The Sound of Music. "Well, that's one part of being gay I shan't have to teach you?"
"What?"
"Being keen on old musicals."
"Whoops, sorry, uncle. Thought I was back at school with the 'wheugh'."
"I must make a note to buy the large bottle of tomato ketchup next time. Which reminds me. What do we need in the way of food this weekend?"
"We should be all right Friday evening," said Kieran.
"Julian and I will go out somewhere to eat."
"Can we have some snacky things in just in case we're hungry?"
"Then what about Saturday?" said Eric.
"That's the sticky thing..."
"If that's the only sticky thing you have all weekend, it's going to be rather an anti-climax." Kieran tried not to laugh as he didn't think he was allowed to at a dubious remark like that, but the more he tried to control himself, the more he found it impossible not to giggle. "Oh, for goodness' sake, Kieran, laugh and get it out of your system. You will hear worse from Julian. I probably didn't tell you, but he's a bit on the camp side. That's why I love him, but also why I couldn't live with him all the time. Would you like some more baked beans?"
"Yes, please."
"It a good job you are sleeping in your own bed tonight."
"And could we put a bit more bacon under the grill?"
"We'll do it in the micro this time, just to show you how."
"And I don't suppose there any more chips?"
"Hmm, you'll have to slice up another potato. I'd forgotten that young people had hollow legs."
When they had finished eating, or rather, when Kieran had finally finished eating, Eric made some coffee which they drank still seated at the kitchen table.
"We only got as far as Friday on the fodder trail. What about Saturday?"
"That's the problem," said Kieran, trying to avoid the word 'sticky' in case he got a fit of the giggles again and ended up with hiccoughs. "I don't know yet whether Orlando will be staying."
"Of course he'll be staying. You're not likely to end up knocking hell out of each other after one night. And if Julian and I are there, I'm not having you playing gooseberry. Fine, we assume he's stopping and if he doesn't, the food goes into the freezer. Make a decision about Saturday."
"We'll go to the early showing if we go to the cinema and eat in house."
"I take it in house means at home." Kieran nodded. "Okay then, we'll make Sunday a family day. I'll teach you how to cook a roast dinner and Orlando and Julian can watch. They might learn something, or give us the benefit of their experience."
"I couldn't possibly do a roast," said Kieran shocked.
"I'll let you into a secret. A roast is the easiest one of the lot, especially in your mother's fan oven. As with everything else culinary, the most difficult thing is getting the timing right. And to finish off I'll make a pudding." Kieran agreed the plans. "That means of course that we'll have to do another Sainsbury's run tomorrow evening. There won't be time on Friday, and we'll take the stuff straight back to your place, and perhaps you'll do an audit during the day and see that we have enough of the odd things like salt, pepper, kitchen towel, Fairy liquid, and so on.
"We'll get this lot washed up and tidied away and then we must get onto the next module of your apprenticeship. I wouldn't have done this so soon, but in view of your impending date with Orlando and the fact it is going to last three nights, there are implications we're going to have to talk about."
"Implications? That sounds serious."
"Well, all fun has its serious side. Now, on poets' day, I'll be home early and..."
"Poets' day?"
"Friday, Kieran. Push Off Early, Tomorrow's Saturday. It's somewhere between a mnemonic and an acrostic. And that's the polite version."
"Oh," grunted Kieran. Then "Oooh!?!" as light dawned. "That's quite funny really," he added, not intentionally damning with faint praise.
"So I shall be home here early and Julian will turn up at about half past five and we'll make our way across to your place with all our stuff then. We'll use his car and give mine a rest. Come along. Let's get cleared away in here, young man. It'll be good practice for your mother's kitchen, or we'll both get it in the back of the neck when she gets back, if things are not in good order."
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead
